Although there is nothing my stubborn self despises more than a concession, I must admit that my mother is kind of actually, sometimes, definitely right. In the heat of my high school-esque arguments and pre-pubescent eye-rolls of rebellion, I remember disregarding the notion that I would miss my family so dearly when the time came to leave. It wasn’t that I was wildly unhappy with my home, but it was more so that I was consumed with a narcissistic craving for independence. I now step off of my high horse, waving my white flag lovingly and longingly.
Although the independence of living on your own during college is exhilarating and special in its own right, I can confidently reflect that the journey has instilled a strengthened sense of appreciation for my family in me. Over winter break, that connection felt more tangible than ever as I spent time with countless members of my extended and immediate family.
It is such a unique privilege to be able to form adult relationships with people who you’ve known since childhood — the people who can trace your trajectory as a human being from the very beginning. Conversations that once felt like infantilizing and almost obligatory interactions now transcend the superficial definition of being “related” to someone into what it truly means to be family. Although it feels difficult at times to break out of the shy tween identity these people once knew, it is such a rewarding and wonderful experience to relearn someone on a deeper level as they do the same to you. Laughing over stories about my mom’s college relationships, listening to my uncle recounting his journey overcoming alcoholism, planning to attend a concert outing with my aunt — these moments are the substance of growing in my gratitude.
This ode is, in particular, a dedication to my grandmother. While I have always loved my grandma, to know her as an adult and understand her from a more mature perspective has only confirmed my suspicions: she is just the most wonderful person on this planet. Simultaneously soft and strong, grounding and uplifting, wise and curious, she is my utmost role model and favorite person to chit-chat about life with. Though I wish I could claim to have planned the whole scheme with our closeness in mind as my endgame, it was a happy accident that led to a newfound point of bonding.
Heavily influenced by the Pinterest fashionistas and Tiktok arts and crafts gurus, I became obsessed with crocheting this past summer. As I am an artistic dead zone of a human being, I went straight to the source of expertise for help. My grandma embraced my calls warmly and enthusiastically, planning workshops, sending me tutorials and even making me a small crochet-start up kit. Thinking of her acts of kindness could bring a tear to my eye at any moment throughout the day.
For me, learning to crochet is an intergenerational stitch that allows me to connect with the women in my family. Perhaps we’ll crochet my mom an intergenerational “forgive me” scarf.